


The Monster in the Shadows

by demonfire57



Category: Beauty and the Beast - All Media Types, La Belle et la Bête | Beauty and the Beast (Fairy Tale)
Genre: F/M, Random & Short, Romance, Short One Shot, based on original
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 22:48:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18040565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonfire57/pseuds/demonfire57
Summary: Beauty reflects on the Beast and the fear he inspires within her.





	The Monster in the Shadows

He frightens me. My captor, the Beast, frightens me like I've never felt before.

I've sensed his presence all around me ever since I came here to his palace to save my dearest father from his clutches. The first night was the worst, for I feared he would gobble me up for supper.

It still surprises me that he gave me a room and told me that this entire castle was mine and mine alone. I am the mistress of a castle filled with beauty and darkness, and he is the monster that constantly follows me.

His dark fur helps him hide in the shadows of the castle, as if he is afraid of the sunlight and what it might reveal. His pale blue eyes peek out at me from the darkness, like a wolf's, glowing in any form of light. And it is only in the candle light during our suppers together that I see the gleam of white razor-sharp fangs peeking out from his mouth as he speaks

The Beast truly isn't to be blamed for his appearances, in fact he really is gentle and kind to me. Anything I ask for, he provides me; any questions I ask, he complies. A gentleman in every aspect, ever more than any other man I've met in my lifetime.

But I fear this power that I seem to hold over him.

There are times, when he is in the rose garden, I hear his anguish cries and feel my heart beat increase. When he becomes angry and takes his rage out on unsuspecting objects, I turn my head and close my eyes for fear he will see what I see.

But the true reason he frightens me is how he continuously asks for my hand and love.

_ I don't love him... I can't marry him... _

And every time I tell him this, the Beast becomes sober and leaves without another word. Then, when I'm alone, a feel an empty ache in my heart that has never been there before.

And after each refusal, it hurts more and more.

I sometimes clutch at my breast where my heart lies beating and pray to understand why my refusal of his hand constantly effects me so.

I've begun to wonder if my refusal is more to keep myself detached, or if it is to keep the Beast unhappy.

When I'm in his company, he always is surprised to see me, as if he is expecting me to vanish into thin air overnight. 

In late mornings, we walk through the garden as his long tail drags behind him. We often stop and discuss small things like the roses and memories tied to them, or horticulture in general. If a chill sweeps through, the beast pulls his cloak from his shoulders and rests it onto mine.

If I ever argue about such a thing, he only laughs and smiles, "Beauty, my coat is thick and will keep me warm in the winters and cool in the summers. Don't fear for my health when it is you who need to be kept warm."

His rich voice still echoes in my ears when we separate for lunch. Only after eating do I seek out his company again, this time in the library. Tea is sometimes served as we read together or, if I wish it, his voice telling tales as it surrounds us in a safe haven.

I nearly wept one afternoon as he read a part of a dying hero. His fur covered paw caressed my cheek wiping the tears away before asking, "Perhaps something more cheerful, dear Beauty?"

"No, please continue," I whispered, a smile gracing my lips.

And he always did.

Then was when the days always turned sour. I would eat supper at one end of table as he sat at the other end with a glass filled with wine and watched me consume my meal. After I finished eating, he would ask, "Dear sweet Beauty, do you love me? Will you marry me?"

_ "No, Beast... I don't love you... I can't marry you..." _

Then he would stand and leave, his paws dragging against the floor tiling and tail still. His shoulders would slump and I could always hear him trying to hold back tears.

I clutched the bedsheets and wonder what would happen if I answered differently. Would he jump for joy? Or would he shake his head and claim that he can't be loved by one such as I?

The Beast does frighten me, but not in any way I have expected.


End file.
